Your erotic stories

You Are Not My Father. That was what my daughter Amy said to me. She was right of course, we had not met until she was twelve but much to the amazement of the three of us we got along well from the start. I did all the Dad things and perhaps a few more. I took her out on a to dinner dates on her birthdays, just the two of us. I taught her to drive. I was always dressed and polite when her friends came over.

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I was feeling dejected. The latest girl I had asked to the Sweetheart Dance, had rejected me out of hand. At twenty-two, I wasn't a bad looking guy it's just that the local Monterey women had plenty of men stationed at Fort Ord from which to choose.

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"Hey baby?" Uh oh. I've heard that tone of voice before. Whenever you get that sort of introduction, you know that what comes after it can't be good. It usually is followed by something like, We gotta talk. "We gotta talk," she said. Damn. Here I was, relaxing. I had the game controller in my hand, the bad guys in my crosshairs.

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I'd read about it on some online porn story site. OK. I'd read it several times and I couldn't get it out of my head! It was the most erotic thing and I know I would never have even considered doing it before that damn story. I had been so turned on I jacked off to the story twice that night and several times since then!

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It's late. Deep within the AM. The storms are rattling the house, shaking all the windows... with a crash the room goes white, lit brightly beyond any recognition, for just a split second. Then total darkness. Again. I'm scared. I'm alone. I hear the sheets of rain colliding against my window...

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I focused on the backs of her legs and turned the little wheel of the binoculars with my thumb to sharpen the image. She was bending over one of her pots and pinching something on a plant to remove it. Her dress was riding higher and I glimpsed an extra three inches of white thigh. As she attempted to stand erect she put both hands behind her back and straightened with an effort.

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"Am I glad to be leaving the office, I have been here for twelve hours!" As I exited the building, the security officer Scott locked up behind me. Thinking about the hour drive home, I remembered the toy in my purse. Scott was just walking back to his desk as I knocked on the door. He walked back over, unlocked the door and smiled. "Forget something?"

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Part 1: Christie at the Gas Station "Alright, I'll see you tomorrow!" said Christie Wilkins as she left her friends in the high school parking lot. She drove her small, hand-me-down, gremlin-like car toward the exit to the parking lot, stopping at the stop sign at the intersection.

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It was the Friday afternoon, before the Holiday Weekend, and I was driving the car to the ‘Biker Rally’ and ‘Rock Festival’, when I realised that I had a ‘slow puncture’. My husband, Craig, had set off earlier, on his new Honda 750. My mobile phone couldn’t receive a signal, so all I could do was sit by the side of the road; smoke a cigarette and wait for help.

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'Should I send him a picture of my ass or my tits?' Kayla thought to herself. She stood and looked to the mirror on the wall between the dorm room beds. She admired her own body, grabbing her breasts over her spaghetti strap top. Chris was definitely a tits guy.

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